


The Hand You're Dealt

by darkrose



Series: Art of the Deal [2]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Community: kink_bingo, Flogging, M/M, Masochism, Mirror Universe, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrose/pseuds/darkrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his second year, Kirk discovers just how serious the Imperial Starfleet Academy is about maintaining discipline among the cadets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hand You're Dealt

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** This fic is set in the Star Trek Mirror Universe, which is a dystopic version of the Prime Star Trek universe that includes sexual violence and consent issues. This particular fic includes flogging as punishment.
> 
> **Notes:** Written for the "Penance/Punishment" Kink Bingo square.
> 
> For this version of the Mirrorverse, I'm sticking with canon as presented in Enterprise and TOS. Instead of following the DS9 version, however, I'm branching off after the TOS episode "Mirror, Mirror" and mostly going with the Mirrorverse history from Diane Duane's _Dark Mirror_.

"...sixteen...seventeen...eighteen..."

Under most circumstances, getting hurt is one of Jim's favorite ways to spend an afternoon. Pike's always ready to slap him around, of course, and if he's in the mood for something different, well, he's not in Iowa any more. There are plenty of places in San Francisco for a good-looking, enterprising young man to enjoy himself and make some cash as well.

The problem at the moment is that a sizable chunk of Starfleet is watching him get hurt. And that wouldn't be a problem either, if he hadn't gotten hard before stripping out of his uniform. His fellow cadets--and more importantly, the senior officers in charge of ship assignments--now have incontrovertible proof that James T. Kirk is a big damn bottom. As far as the Imperial Starfleet is concerned, that's pretty much a guarantee that you'll never be considered captain material.

For the most part, his preferences have been an advantage so far. He's received outstanding grades without having to bother studying because his ability to think outside the box is only matched by his skill at sucking cock. His patron has more influence than his rank would indicate, and rumor had it that the Empress herself wants him to command her new flagship once it's complete.

"...nineteen..."

Jim knows that his problem was that is was easily distracted and often misses vital political nuances--or as Pike puts it, "You think with your dick too much, boy." That's why he's up in front of the assembled cadets and instructors, tied to a frame taking twice the usual first-time punishment for breaking curfew. He simply hadn't made the connection that the gorgeous and sadistic Lady Barnett (Mondays and Thursdays, 2300-0300) was _Admiral_ Barnett's daughter. Since the Admiral and Pike had loathed each other since their Academy days, Jim was kind of screwed, and not in the fun way.

"...twenty." Jim bites his tongue just in time to keep from screaming at a blow that's orders of magnitude harder than the previous ones. As is traditional during discipline parades, he does get a minute or so to catch his breath before the next set.

"I was starting to think you weren't paying attention," the guy from the Discipline Squad whispers in Jim's ear.

"Yeah, well--I was getting a little bored," Jim hisses back. After the guy starts up again, hitting hard enough to break skin, it occurs to him that might not have been the best thing to say. By the time the count gets to thirty, Jim's biting his lip and tasting blood, struggling to keep from screaming.

He never actually hears forty called; he's too busy drifting in a lovely endorphin haze. It's not until the assembled cadets all rise and start to leave that he realizes it's over.

"Hang on." The Discipline Squad guy unbuckles the cuffs that are about all that's keeping Jim upright. He catched Jim when he stumbles and gently eases him into a chair.

"I have to say, that was pretty impressive," he tells Jim as he starts packing up his gear. "I wasn't pulling my blows--Admiral Barnett's orders." He shakes his head. "I don't know what you did to piss him off."

"Slept with his daughter," Jim replies. He pulls his shirt over his head, wincing a little at the brush of the cloth against the fresh welts.

The guy chuckles. "Yeah, that'd do it...and I bet it doesn't help that you're Pike's boy, either." He pauses, still holding one of his whips. "If I were a gambling man, I could have made a lot of money on you. It was running three to one that you wouldn't last through your first year. Pike's got a rep for being rough on his toys."

Jim's not sure whether or not that's supposed to be an insult. If it is, he's heard a lot worse. He shrugs. "Good thing I like it rough."

He stands up and moves in close to the guy, not at all surprised to find that he's hard. Jim reaches up and runs his hands down the front of the guy's chest, admiring the way his sleeveless version of the standard cadet uniform shows off a pair of really nice biceps.

"What about you?" he purrs. "Do you like it rough when it's not your job?"

The guy grabs Jim and kisses him, which is enough of an answer. He shoves his tongue into Jim's mouth and traces the whip marks under Jim's shirt with his fingers. The only appropriate response is for Jim to moan and grind his hips against the guy's crotch. Everything seems to be going perfectly until the guy stops kissing Jim and pushes him away.

"Uh-uh," he says. "Pike will fucking wring my neck."

"Maybe not."

Both cadets look up. Pike's leaning against the wall and smirking. He's really good at moving silently; Jim has no idea how the man does it, but it drives him nuts.

Pike saunters over and studies the Discipline Squad guy, completely ignoring Jim. "Your name, Cadet?"

The guy straightens up a little. "Hikaru Sulu, Sir."

"Sulu...." Pike's smirk widens into the shark-like smile that always makes Jim nervous. "Right--I remember now. Shame about your parents; I was surprised that a couple of Starfleet officers could be that fucking dumb."

Jim can see a muscle in Sulu's jaw twitch, but his voice is even and he doesn't look away from Pike. "The Empress in her wisdom and mercy chose not to hold me responsible for my birth-parents' crimes. She personally saw to it that I was adopted by loyal Starfleet officers after the Watanabes were executed for their treason against the Empire."

"Let me guess--you joined the Discipline Squad to make sure no one would have a reason to question your loyalty?" Pike sounds more amused than angry.

"That was one of the reasons, yes, Sir," Sulu replies. Pike actually laughs out loud at that.

"Nice to see that abject stupidity isn't hereditary," he says. "But seriously, Cadet, I liked the way you handled that whip, and I liked the way you looked with my boy here." He rests a hand on the back of Jim's neck; Jim immediately bows his head, the picture of deference.

Pike's not fooled--not that Jim expected him to be. "Right at the moment, though, I'm afraid the little slut would enjoy it way too much, and he's got a lot of work to do before he earns a reward like that from me." he tells Sulu. "When he does, though, I'll definitely be in touch."

Jim risks a glance up. There's a glint in Sulu's eyes that he likes a great deal.

"Yes, Sir. I'll be looking forward to it," Sulu says.

He's not the only one.


End file.
